


Here With Me

by dancingelf88



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilty Conscience, Hurt Scott, M/M, Scott Needs A Hug, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingelf88/pseuds/dancingelf88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just do me one favor?"</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Scott looks up at him.</p>
<p>“Let me take care of you?”</p>
<p>Scott is ready to assure that he’s fine. That Stiles should go home and rest. Instead what comes out is “Ok.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here With Me

**Author's Note:**

> There's not enough fics where Scott gets comforted so I thought I would write one especially after that season finale. Hope you enjoy

Scott walks in through his front door as quietly as he can and closes the door softly to avoid waking his mother. It’s 2:17 in the morning and she’d had a long shift. He doesn’t want to wake her and have her worry about why he’s out so late.

Before he heads to his room Scott sends out his senses to make sure everything is ok. He hears the familiar, steady beat of his mother’s heart and relaxes knowing that she’s still asleep: safe and sound. He immediately tenses though when a second heartbeat registers: fluctuation signals stress and worry. Before he can rush to assess this new threat in his house he smells him. _Human. Pack. Woolite fabric softener. Musk. Stiles._

Scott checks his phone again to see if he missed any messages or calls to inform him about new danger in Beacon Hills but nothing. Still…Stiles wouldn’t be in his room right now so late if something wasn’t wrong. He steels his nerves and marches upstairs to find out what’s happening now.

“Stiles.” His best friend looks up at him when he walks in and whispers his name, “what’s going on? What’s happening?”

“Whoa…whoa there, Scott. Nothing’s happening—at least nothing of the supernatural, monster sort.”

“Oh.” Scott deflates immediately and breathes out a sigh of relief and then straightens up again, “wait then why are you here? It’s 2 in the morning, Stiles, you should be asleep.”

“So should you…but here you are.” Stiles says. He keeps his voice low.

“This is my room, though?” Scott points out.

“Which you weren’t in for the past…” he looks to the alarm clock on Scott’s nightstand, “49 minutes I’ve been here.”

“I was taking a walk.”

“At 2 in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep, ok.” Scott snaps. He doesn’t mean to.

“No I get it.” Stiles says before Scott can apologize, “It’s hard to get a good night’s sleep when all you see when you close your eyes is images of you hurting the people you care about.”

Scott looks up at him abruptly. Stiles is sitting on his bed calmly looking at him, “Stiles—are you still having nightmares? Is that why you’re here?”

He doesn’t expect Stiles’ quiet chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were four Scotty…you can dodge a lot of people. I’m not one of them.”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to dodge you Stiles.” Scott says to him, as earnestly as he can, but it fails and he can see how not fooled his best friend is.

He sometimes hates when Stiles gets like this. His best friend, for all his energy and tangents, sometimes gets hyper focused when he wants to. Scott hates it when that focus is zeroed in on him. He can’t distract this.

 “I’m fine.” It doesn’t mean he won’t try, “Stiles—I’m fine. I swear…I’m fine. I am. I’m ok—I’m fine Stiles.”

He tries to stop saying it. He really does. But somehow that fails too. Stiles is still looking at him: unconvinced, patient, waiting for Scott to stop lying. To admit that he hasn’t gotten more than 3 hours of sleep a night since Mexico. That he closes his eyes and he sees _her_ lowering that mask of bones over his face. That he feels himself changing. He remembers hurting them: slamming Kira over and over on the ground; knocking Malia into the walls, punching Stiles, almost killing Liam. He remembers all of it. He remembers how much he liked it. How powerful he felt in those moments when he was hurting those closest to him.

The all too familiar pinpricks of pain as his claws dig into his palms are the first things to bring him back. Stiles hands tight on his wrists urging him to stop come second. When he opens his eyes Stiles’ concerned ones are the first things he sees. And he doesn’t know why that’s what does him in. But it does.

Scott reaches forward, bloody palms and all, and pulls Stiles to him burying his face in his neck. It muffles the sound of him crying and he’s glad for it.

“It’s ok, Scotty, you’re ok. It’s alright now.” Stiles’ voice is soft. It’s comforting.

When Scott pulls away it’s reluctant. Stiles doesn’t let him get far. They sit cross legged on the floor with their knees touching. Stiles has Scott’s hands in his. They’re still bloody but the cuts have healed.

“I’m sorry.” Scott says in a hoarse whisper. He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for exactly: Mexico, for worrying his best friend, for crying and slobbering all over him, for the dried blood he’s going to have to deal with.

“Ok.” Stiles says to him. Scott is grateful that Stiles isn’t trying to tell him he has nothing to apologize for.

“Is it going to be like this forever?” Scott asks him after a few beats of silence.

Stiles continues rubbing circles into his wrists, “The guilt is going to stick with you for a long time. You’ll look at Kira, at Malia, at Liam…at me and you’ll remember what happened. And it’s going to feel like a punch to the gut. Every time. And it’s not going to matter how many times we tell you that that wasn’t you. That Kate transformed you and brought out the darkest part of you. That we don’t blame you. It’s not going to matter…not until you believe it.”

“When is that going to happen?” Scott gives a hollow chuckle.

Stiles shrugs his shoulder, “Whenever you let it. And it’s ok that it’s not today. It’s ok that it’s not tomorrow. Just—do me one favor?”

“What’s that?” Scott looks up at him.

“Let me take care of you?”

Scott is ready to assure that he’s fine. That Stiles should go home and rest. Instead what comes out is “Ok.”

He lets Stiles pull him to his feet and walk him into the adjoining bathroom where he sits on the closed lid of the toilet while his best friend cleans his bloodied palms. Back in his bedroom the alpha undresses down to his boxers and waits for Stiles to do the same before they climb under the covers.

Scott feels safe at the moments with his head tucked underneath Stiles’ chin. The nightmares still come. But when he wakes up thrashing a scream lodged in his throat he isn’t alone. Stiles is there to hold him tight and whisper—

“You’re safe, Scotty. You’re here with me. I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> me on tumblr: elfysparkles88.tumblr.com


End file.
